Annual Maneuvers
General Winifred Bentley Payne stood at the opening of the headquarters tent and surveyed the field over which the days maneuvers were to take place. “Blast!” he thought to himself. It was a travesty, the clouds rolled in late yesterday evening and dumped blankets of water on the ground. Hoof and boot would churn this ground to a muddy slop and the value of training would diminish as a result. “Nothing for it but to give it a good showing, stiff upper lip and all that, the lads will just have to do the best they can” he mumbled under his breath.
Behind, and just inside the tent, Lady Adeline Chard eyed the General carefully, sizing him up. An old man she thought, still, straight up and down though, and hard as iron. She never knew a Lord Protector other than General Payne, he'd held that post longer than she'd been alive. “Whats that you say General?” She asked after hearing some muffled sounds from his direction, knowing full well not to expect an answer.
With that General Payne slapped his thigh with a crop, as if prodding himself into acting on some decision he'd reached. He stepped out into the rain, “Blast that Chard for bringing his wife out here” he thought.
The General mounted his horse and rode over the Brigadier Chard's encampment. One year ago Chard had been assigned Infantry Regiments Scyld and Finn, two of the finest in the army. Brigadier Marriot Harald Rouse Chard the III was a court appointment and the General argued furiously against it to no avail. It seems Chard has connections, via his wife, to the important neighboring Duchy of Groningen, an alliance valued highly by the Duke.
"Just in time!" the Duke mumbled as he rode up to find the regiments roll being completed. The battalions were arrayed in line, one facing the other with Chard himself upon his horse, umbrella and all, in the center receiving the reports.
Chard, spying the General, rode over and delivered a sharp salute that only a wet noodle could manage and stammered "The Brigade is formed and ready for your inspection if you so desire it Sir".
Payne returned the salute, such as it was, and queried the Brigadier on the status of his battalion. "All present or accounted for Sir!", exclaimed Chard.
"What about sick rolls Chard?" mumbled the General.
"Eighteen on sick roll Sir", Chard looked a bit worried at that.
"Shall we ride the line Chard?" the General said, this time in a clear crisp voice heard down the lines.
As the General rode the line he asked no questions. His eye roved the ranks and his mind ticked off tallies of notes only long experience could teach. The only sound to be heard, aside from the horses, was the General's occasional mumbles, "Hmph", "Eighteen!", "12, 15, 18 percent!", "blast!", "I see!" and "Hmph!".
Upon completion the General informed the Brigadier, "Why have so many of your men been loosing their hats Chard?"
"Err, uh a General, the wind has picked up dreadfully from the storm." Chard returned, hoping that was a proper answer.
"Its more than that Chard!" exclaimed Payne, "The men's hats don't fit!, why I estimate that a full 25% of your men's hats barely rest on top of their heads!, now why is that?".
"Well sir, I was ordered by the Duke to guard the Ducal coin carefully when I took command. So, I made it a policy to only order small Tricorns, as they cost much less than larger ones" Chard beamed, know for certain that this would gain the General's approval.
"And that uniform your wearing there, is that issue from the Quartermater?" asked the General, with his eye on the gold braid and carefully tailored attire.
"Well, no Sir, I obtained this in Tippelbruder while the wife and I were on holiday earlier in the year" replied Chard, looking somewhat worried.
"And you paid for that yourself Chard?" the General said knowingly.
"No sir, I've been reimbursed by the brigade purse", Chard hanging his head.
"Dismiss your men, change into issued attire, and report to me at headquarters with all your officers, and burn that peacock garb." ordered Payne and off he rode with a slight smile on his face.
As the sun set, the General finally dismissed the officers of Brigade Chard from behind the Headquarters tent, where he had been personally drilling them in slop and mudd for the entire day.
